The-Boy-Who-May-Have-A-Couple-Of-Screws-Loose
by Jetom
Summary: basically, a collection of little shots where Harry reacts a bit differently and people wonder if he is maybe a little nuts :) wondering who will spot the various references :P a bit of fun nonsense really
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: alright, so this is a collection of random moments where I couldn't help but picture a slightly nutty Harry- basically what if the Boy Who Lived had a couple of screws loose :) hope you enjoy, this is just from the Philosopher's Stone, but if get positive feedback I might do the rest. sorry, rambling... thanks for reading! Hope that wherever you are you are having a good day!**

"You're a wizard Harry!"  
"You have got to be joking."  
"Umm, nope, you really are a wizard. Haven't you ever made things happen when you were hurt or scared?"  
"Holy cow! I am a wizard- I could rule the world! Beware dreadful Dursleys, the time has come for you to face my wrath!"  
"Umm, Harry, perhaps we should-"  
"Tremble in fear of my sheer bloody awesomeness! Phenomenal cosmic powers…" he thought back to his cupboard… "teeny weeny living space."  
Hagrid looked at him slightly concerned as the child continued to dance around the shabby room and wiggle his fingers in a somehow threatening manner at his relatives. Perhaps another professor should have brought the letter…

….

"Wow- did you say this place was diagonally?"  
"That would be Diagon Alley actually."  
"So, is there like, a nocturnally?"  
"Umm, yes there is Nocturn Alley. But it is a very dangerous place so we won't be going-"  
"How about criminally? Or phenomenally? Ooh is there an abnormally, eccentrically or bathymetrically, or maybe-"  
"I really don't know if-"  
"Ooh Hagrid, look a distraction!"

The half giant turned in a half circle to see what the kid was shouting about now, and by the time he looked back the child in question had completely vanished. Over the course of the next fifteen minutes of frantic searching he could feel the worry building in his gut. Dumbledore was going to kill him if he lost the Boy-Who-Lived whilst getting school supplies. He was just about the alert the authorities when suddenly the child once again rematerialized at his side. The impossibly large man just gaped at the boy.

"What the hell happened to you? Where have you been? And why are you covered in glitter?"  
The saviour of the wizarding world, who now resembled the more gaudy type of Christmas fairy grinned up at him. "I was exploring- turns out there is a Spark Alley!"

Definitely should have sent another professor…

…

The bushy haired girl sat down next to the red headed boy who seemed rather put out by the new addition.  
"So, know any spells yet?" her voice was slightly snooty but Harry got the sense that she was just as nervous as the rest of them. He laughed a little, thinking about how new the wizarding world was to him.  
"Oh sure I do- Abracadabra!" this actually got a small smile from the girl until a split second later a scream cut the air and the small group caught sight of a platinum blonde boy and two gorillas sprinting away from their carriage which they had been about to enter, screeching something about killing curses and Harry Potter being a nutcase…

…

"Oh my God Hagrid! Is that your dog on the third floor?!"  
"How did you lot know about fluffy?"  
"That thing has a name?" there was real disdain in Hermione's voice  
"You called a giant three headed dog fluffy?" Ron was just staring at the half giant game keeper.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Well, it isn't such a strange choice- I mean, the root of 'Cerberus' in its original Greek means 'spotted'. If the original was named 'Spot' by the god of the underworld, ruler of the dead, then surely Fluffy isn't too bad a name. Either way, that is besides the point. Hagrid- what is Fluffy doing in that room?"  
"Well, umm I can't tell you that because…"  
"It's criminal! The poor mutt must be bored stiff. I mean come on- three heads must make for awesome games of fetch! How much do you need to feed it? Do you have one tonne bags of kibble? Do you have to put a dog collar on each head? Does it like to have its belly scratched?"

At least this time there were other people staring at the boy with varying levels of confusion and concern for his sanity…

…..

"Mr Potter, aah yes, our resident _celebrity_ "  
"Yep, that's me, famous for the fact I am still breathing. I'm a celebrity, get me out of here!"  
Snape blinked in surprise at the light hearted tone. "Sit down Mr Potter. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"  
"A doubtlessly nasty potion."  
"Care to elaborate?"  
"A potion which would create certain effects most likely of a negative nature when ingested."  
"5 points from Gryffindor for failing to answer the question."  
"But I did answer- perhaps not in the exact format that you wanted but I still gave an answer which can be seen as true if not specific."  
"Well then- what is your response _specifically?_ "  
"Ooh I've been there before! Weird place…"  
The terrifying bat of the dungeons could feel a headache brewing…

…..

Harry rose into the air on his broom, keeping his eyes locked on Malfoy whose smirk slipped from his face even as he still fiddled with the Remembrall. The dark haired eleven year old flicked a glance at the ground below, and suddenly a strange expression crossed his face.  
"Oh my god- I'm flying!"  
Malfoy looked a bit confused. "Umm, yeah- that is kind of the point."  
"No but really! I am flying on a broom! I am right now the ultimate cliché… but that is besides the point- I am flying! On a broom! That is just mental."  
"Umm, Potter- what do you think you are-" his developing rant was interrupted as he had to dodge out of the way of the other boy who had started diving and swooping apparently randomly.  
"I believe I can fly! I got shot by the FBI…"  
"Is that supposed to be singing?" perhaps he should just give the Longbottom boy his trinket back and in future try to ignore the apparently unhinged saviour of the wizarding world…

….

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood in the wreckage of what had once been a girl's bathroom, staring slightly stunned at the unconscious mountain troll lying flat on its face. Moments later a terrified collection of teachers came barrelling into the room, to stare in shock at the students staring in shock at the unconscious mountain troll lying flat on its face. Unknown to everyone, one of the ghosts was hovering just outside, staring in shock at the teachers staring in shock at the students staring in shock at the unconscious mountain troll lying flat on its face…

"Potter! You had better have a damned good explanation-"  
"I think what professor Snape meant to say was: please explain what happened here. From the beginning if you would."  
Harry drew a deep breath. "In the beginning was the Word and-"  
"Potter!"  
"Perhaps start slightly closer to the incident." The headmaster's eyes were, of course, twinkling.  
Harry sighed, muttering something about being specific and continuing issues… "Mr and Mrs Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…"

There was the unmistakable 'thunk' sound of Snape's head making contact with the wall.  
"Again, slightly more recent perhaps."  
Another heavy sigh. "Fine! Well, Quirrell burst in shrieking about a troll in the dungeons, which I found a bit odd as clearly Snape was sitting in the hall and generally he is more of a bat… but anyway, we realised Hermione didn't know because she hadn't come to the feast due to being upset by some comments from Ron. By the way- really tosspot move on that one mate."

The young Weasly had the grace to look apologetically at the bushy haired girl on his right.  
"So… we came, we saw, we kicked giant ogre ass, and they all lived happily ever after the end."  
And without further ado, the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Baffle-Others swept from the room with his robes billowing in a manner which Snape could not help but approve of.

…..

There, sticking out of the back of his defence professor's head was the hideous face of none other than Voldemort himself.  
"Give me the stone!" the voice bounced and echoed around the room in a monstrous parody of a voice which seemed to be serpentine and strained. Manic red eyes glared balefully as the possessed professor reached out to grasp the young boy… only to be brought up abruptly.

"Tch, tch, tch… now really is that any way for a grown man to behave?"  
"Did you just tut at me Potter?"  
"You know, Snape really says my name with much more venom. Your attempt wasn't too bad, but not on par with the dungeon bat. And to answer your question- yes, yes I did. And I do it again: TCH!"  
The crimson eyes blinked on the back of Quirell's skull in apparent astonishment.  
"I mean really 'give me the stone'? Never heard of the magic word?"  
"What? Do you mean Avada-"  
"No, honestly, would it kill you to say _please_? I mean come on, you are the Dark Lord right? Surely such a title must come with some manner of breeding or at least basic social training. Manners cost nothing you know but make a far better impression."

Unfortunately this advice seemed to go unheeded as after a brief pause Quirellmort once again made a grab for the stone. As his host was burned away, and the fragment of Voldemort's soul was scattered into the abyss, the last words he heard were "I want doesn't get…" and he couldn't help but think that one person in this scenario was definitely unhinged and he wasn't sure who it was…


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N hello! so, I am still alive. I know, has been a crazy long time between updates and afraid I don't have a valid excuse- gonna plead "was abroad for a year and then stymied by severe writers block". Anywhoo, here is another dose of HP madness. jts, I will eventually do all of the books (even if it kills me) so feel free to let me know if there are any particular scenes you would like me to include :) hope wherever you are you are having a good day!**

….

"Oh my god! You guys have a flying car?!"  
"Yep- well, technically it's our dad's but-"  
"Is it syst-o-matic?"  
"Umm, I guess…"  
"Hydro-matic?"  
"What-"  
"Ultro-matic?!"  
"We don't-"  
"Why! It's Greased Lightning!"  
Perhaps their rescue had come a little too late to save the last shreds of Harry's sanity…

…

The, once again stolen, car rose carefully into the air, both boys holding their breath until they had cleared the rooftops. Harry stared wide eyed at the street below, before turning slowly to Ron and taking a deep breath.  
"I think I'll try defying gravity!"  
The redhead jumped at the sudden outburst, "Oh god Harry don't start that up again."  
"Oh you, pretty chitty bang bang, chitty chitty bang bang we love you…"  
"I am begging you- please remember that you really cannot sing!"  
There was a brief moment of quiet…  
"On the road again, can't wait to get on the road again…"

The sound of Ron's head hitting the steering wheel repeatedly was at least in time to the beat…

…

Lockhart suddenly appeared just as they were about to head into the greenhouse with Professor Sprout, asking to borrow Harry for a moment and trying to steer him away from the group. Unfortunately for him, he was dealing with the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Difficult. Naturally Harry decided to dig his heels in.  
"Stranger danger!"  
"Wait- what?" the megawatt smile slipped for a second.  
"Stranger danger! Help! Professor Sprout- I need an adult!"  
"Now really Harry-"

Professor Sprout came over to investigate the commotion, only to be promptly surprised as the small Gryffindor decided to hide behind her, peeping around at the somewhat ruffled blond.  
"I am not that stupid enough to just go walking off with some random man."  
"What are you talking about- we met the other day. I am Gilderoy Lockhart: Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five times winner of _Witch Weekly's_ most charming smile award! And one of your teachers this year."

The boy eyed him up and down for a moment, then shook his head. "Nope- don't recognise or remember you."  
Lockhart looked as if he had been hit in the head with a bludger, not making a move as Harry trotted into the greenhouse after his classmates.  
Was it possible that there was someone who didn't know who he was…?

…

It was later in his class that Lockhart began to wish that was perhaps the case. His attempts to get Harry to act out particular sections of his books had not gone exactly to plan…  
"Alright Harry, I want you to pretend to be a werewolf."  
The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Apparently-Be-Uncooperative stood there staring at the professor with a polite smile on his face.  
"Come on Harry- act like a werewolf!"  
"But I am professor- it is currently the middle of the day and nowhere near the full moon. Therefore, as a werewolf, I am basically a regular human."  
"Umm, well pretend that it is the same situation as in my book. Imagine the scene, and then attack me so I can defeat you."  
"Attack you?"  
"Yes, yes attack me- come on Harry you really must participate." He could see the attention of his audience wandering for a minute, before thankfully the boy shrugged in apparent agreement. The professor blew a faint sigh of relief and returned to his narrative.  
"Alright, so I bravely approached the werewolf who was simply waiting to attack, lunging at me as I drew my wand and exclaimed-"

There was a sudden string of pained expletives and an astonishingly crude vocabulary as one Harry Potter sharply kicked the shin of his defence professor, sending the man crumpling to the ground in what was to be fair, a legitimate form of attack.

The student looked down in confusion at the still swearing teacher, ignoring the eruption of laughter from the rest of the class. "Professor, that doesn't match up with what you said in the book."

…..

Professor McGonagall was marching briskly down the corridor to have a word with Dumbledore about the recent attacks, only to stop short as she overheard language used which would have made a drunken sailor blush. Full of righteous fury, she rounded the corner to confront such dreadful behaviour, to pull up in confusion as she came across what looked like a study group of second years.

They brightened as they saw her, asking if she could answer a question that was puzzling them over the best phrasing to use when facing a werewolf and stating their options of two extremely detailed and inventive rounds of swearing. Further investigation revealed that Professor Lockhart had been the one to teach them such language, at which point the formidable witch decided to make a small detour via the defence classroom to discuss appropriate behaviours around students…

...

Harry tuned to Ron and Hermione as they walked down the deserted corridors on their way back from the Death Day celebration. "Guys, do you ever hear that little voice inside your head that tells you something is wrong or you've forgotten something?"  
"Umm, yeah sometimes- like when I know I should have written another couple of inches on my homework..."  
"Or when Fred and George tell me that their latest scheme could never backfire if I help them out..."  
"Right, well does it ever sound to you like a cold murderous voice expressing intense bloodlust and hunger? No? Just me? Fair enough then..."

…

Harry stared in shock for a moment at the self-proclaimed teenaged Voldemort that was slowly solidifying in front of him, listening to his venomous recounting of his past. Finally, Riddle's monologue ended, and he waited expectantly for the younger boy's reaction.  
"So… let me get this straight. Driven by severe teenage angst and absent father issues, you purposefully created various pseudonyms from an anagram of your name (how long did that take by the way? I mean, did you literally just sit there until you found one that sounded bad guy-ish enough?) and then made other school boys call you this? You do realise that a proper nickname can only be assigned to you by somebody else right? Otherwise, well you are just creating an empty title so as to fulfil your clearly deep emotional issues in a drastic overcompensation as you search for a sense of identity-"

It was at that point that the homicidal teenager in question managed to close his mouth which had dropped open as his psyche was dissected and gathered enough wits to order the Basilisk to attack…

…


End file.
